Any Means Necessary
by DreamerOnDrugs
Summary: When Zulandra Mahariel isn't the only one saved from the cave on that faithful day she has to learn to share the Wardenship with not only Alistair but Tamlen as well. Humans aren't their first choice in companions but they have to learn to deal with them in order to stop the Blight... you know, if they don't all die by Alistair's cooking first (FMaharielxTamlen, CouselandxAlistair)
1. Prologue

**Author's note: **This is the replacement story for 'Living a Legend'. I wasn't content with my writing and decided to stop writing Living a Legend and focus my attention on a new story; Zulandra however, is still loosely based on Selyna (the main character from Living a Legend) and a few events and characters in the plot might be similar. Reviews are very welcome, I always love to know what others think about my stories.

**Setting note: **For future ideas; I am modelling the elves in my story after the elves appearing in DA2 (meaning: tall, willowy frames, thin faces, large almond eyes, small features).

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my own fantasy.

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**Prologue**

_Deep within the forest, we're the hungry wolves to fear  
But we can see that you're the only evil creature here  
Before you came we lived in peace but you have brought us death  
we sing our pain up to the moon but it's a waste of breath_

Black clouds loomed over the forest, hiding the weak sun behind them and covering the usual green lush in darkness and shadows. It was at times like this when she could not understand a thing about her own instincts. The way ahead was covered in thick bushes, even too thick to walk through at some points, with trees high enough to block out whatever sunlight was able to make it past the clouds... and yet her guts told her that whoever she was tracking down had been heading this way. Which made little sense as there was a wide and, although a bit muddy around this time of year, fine road that was commonly used by travelers only half a mile to the east.

But, who- or whatever had wondered off the road to this place, one thing was sure: it wasn't supposed to be here.

A loud sigh was heard from the woman who was knelt there, her fingers lightly tracing the outlines of a footprint in the mud. The woman – an elf judging by her thin frame and exceptionally long ears – had true raven hair, dark as the night that nearly reached her tailbone. Her eyes were a pale lavender, skin light despite the fact that she had lived outside mostly her entire life, and she moved with a silence that only comes from many years of practice in the art of stealth. Simple tribal armor clung to her slender body, a few pouches and small knives hanging from the belt around her hips. She barely wore any jewelry, only a single necklace made up of small wooden beads, each carved into the shape of an animal. Though the most exotic feature of her appearance was probably the vallaslin, the dark red dalish tattoo that ran in thin lines and swirls over her eyelids, forehead and neck, only to disappear underneath her armour to continue over the rest of her body.

She sat there in complete silence, most likely wondering what to do next; as it truly seemed that her prey had wondered out into the thickest part of the wood... a place even she hadn't fully explored yet. This was the first time she was out hunting without one of her clan-mates to watch her back, which already wasn't a comforting thought by itself.

Not even mentioning the fact that Ashalle would kill her if she ever was to find out.

Her mental discussion was rudely interrupted when only a few feet behind her the sound of a bowstring being pulled disrupted the natural orchestra of forest sounds, making her spin around in the split of a second; dust and leaves swirling up around her feet before being swept away in a breeze that was almost unnatural. The elf stayed there, not moving a single muscle, hunters knife in one hand as she scanned the area for possible intruders.

"Halam sahlin!"

Seconds slowly crept by before the elf heard a deep chuckle coming from behind the tree right in front of her as another elf stepped out from its cover. This elf seemed to be a great deal taller than her, but with his tanned skin, rich amber coloured eyes and sandy blond hair it wasn't too hard for the first elf to recognize him, especially since he still had _that_ stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Tamlen? What in creators name are you doing here?!" The she-elf hissed angrily. For the moment, she was ignoring the fact that the elf in front of her actually was the person she had been looking for ever since she'd left camp – even though she had been side-tracked for a bit – as this did not mean that he could just simply distract and scare her like this to make all of her anger go away. Not that he had actually frightened her! Creators, she feared nothing!

"What?" The elf called Tamlen asked mockingly, the wide grin still present. "Thought I was Ashalle; here to skin you alive? Wasn't it you, Zula, that once said 'a Dalish hunter fears nothing'?"

"The only thing I fear is the length of the lecture Keeper Marethari will give me after I've planted this knife between your eyes!" At the sound of his threat, Tamlen's grin was instantly removed from his face as he looked at his angry friend, just in time to see Zula lunge herself at him, weapon raised and anger in her eyes. He knew she wouldn't hurt him – or not seriously, at least – but when she was in a mood like this... let's just say that it would be best to keep her an arms distance away. Okay, so maybe he had gone too far this time, but hey, he himself had all right to be angry too!

Fortunately for Tamlen, close combat had never been Zula's strongest point. It didn't take him much to avoid her attack, following this evasion by reaching upward and grabbing her hand with the knife in it, probably in order to move it as far away from his face as possible. Sadly, the blond haired elf had forgot to consider her speed while blocking her attack, causing both Zula as Tamlen to lose their balance.

Tamlen winced visibly as he fell onto his back on the woody forest ground but as he tried to sit up, he realized that he was being held down by something soft and warm. The blond elf cursed inwardly when he noticed Zula sitting on top of his stomach with a triumphant smirk on her face, hunter's knife only inches away from his throat. "Come on lethallan, you're being completely unreasonable again."

"Unreasonable? _I_ am being unreasonable?!" She repeated, eyes narrowing in anger as she almost bit the words to him. "If I remember it correctly it was _you_ that _deserted_ and disappeared from the clan three days ago without telling _anyone _where you were going or what you were doing! Excuse me, as your closest friend, to become worried when do things like that! Not even mentioning the fact that you apparently already knew, even before I did, about my-" Further scolding was interrupted by the sound of a large being running through the thick woods and towards the bushes Zula had previously been inspecting.

"What's in there?" Tamlen asked, not taking his eyes off the source of the sound as he waited for Zula to climb off him before standing to his feet. Their argument could wait for a little while longer, as they were relatively close to their clan's camp and any enemy heading in that direction could cause a lot of harm.

Before she responded, the raven-haired elf nocked an arrow to her dalish bow and drew the string "The tracks were shemlen." By now, Tamlen had also readied his bow, both elves aiming in the general direction the sounds had been coming from.

They did not have to wait for long as a distressed brown-haired human burst out of the bushes only a split second after they had finished aiming. The human however seemed to be a lot less aware of the elven hunters than they were of him, as he almost bumped into Tamlen; who in his place was gentle enough to kick the human in the chest just moments before they actually would have coiled with each other, causing the man to fall back flat on his ass even before he fully knew what was going on. And by the time he did realize what was happening, the human was already crawling backwards towards the other two humans that had joined them in the small clearing, each of them looking more afraid than the other.

"I-It's the Dalish!" The man that had been kicked down exclaimed, the fact that the Dalish weren't in the least of bits loved or known for their outstanding reputations towards humans clear in the tone of his voice alone. No, even the most foolish of men could understand that their people were feared and hated by humans over anything else.

Which made it quite impossible for Zula and Tamlen to let them go without risking them betraying the current location of their camp.

Unfortunately for the humans, it was exactly that mutual knowledge that made the elves decide their fate after having only exchanged one look between each other. They couldn't take the risk of their clan being chased away again by the nearby human villagers. "You've stumbled too close to our camp, shems, and we can't trust vermin like you not to betray our location." Zula announced darkly, pointing the arrow on her bow towards the first human.

"Anything to say in your defense, shems?" Tamlen added, following his friend's example and aiming for the other shemlen.

"L-look, we didn't come here to be trouble. We just found a cave." After having squealed out these words, another one of the humans took over the word.

"Yes, a cave! With ruins like I've never seen! We thought there might be, uh..." All of the sudden, the man had stopped speaking and instead nervously stuffed his hands in his pockets, causing a rather large stone to fall out and roll towards Tamlen's feet. If possible, the three humans paled even more after this happened – they were dead.

Trusting Zula to keep an eye on their prey, Tamlen broke aim in order to pick up the strange stone in front of his feet. It almost seemed like part of a tablet, decorated with strange symbols and signs. Wait... he recognized this! He had seen it many times before, but never like this. To be entirely honest, he hadn't even believed it to still exist somewhere out there as an ancient artefact- "This is Elvish." He mumbled in surprise before making eye contact with Zula. "_Written_ Elvish!"

It took a few moments for the words to sink in, but when they did the raven-haired elf focused her attention back on the humans. "What a wonder it is to see such stalwart bravado in one such as yourself." Her words were spoken on a poisonously sweet tone, though the non-suspecting humans seemed to relax at her compliment nevertheless. It did not last long. "It is heartwarming, truly, to see that there are yet humans willing to risk a slow and torturous death in pursuit of our most sacred treasures." Immediately after finishing this sentence, Zula released her arrow and watched at how it buried itself into the first man's chest. The two humans could do nothing but to helplessly watch at how their companion fell to the ground, never to move again. "See it as a warning. Now, tell us where that cave is."

"And don't even think of lying, we know where to find you." Tamlen added as he placed his arrow on his bow again, having put the tablet safely away.

"J-Just to the west! ...I-I think." As he spoke the words 'I think', Tamlen aimed his bow at the human's chest. 'Maybes' were of no use to the elves. "No! I-I'm sure! There's a cave in the r-rock face, and a huge hole just i-in-inside! But there is a d-demon that-"

More he wasn't able to say before an arrow had made it to the small space between his eyes, which at the same time became the sign for the remaining human to start running, and fast. A hissed curse escaped Tamlen's mouth as he reached over to snatch Zula's hunters knife out of the sheath on her thigh and threw it at the man's back, who fell forward into the bushes they had come from on impact. It surely seemed like the human would even rather had taken his chances with the 'demon' back in that cave than with the Dalish elves out here.

Silence once again returned to the clearing, bringing along an almost visible tension between the elves. It seemed like they were just about able to slit each other's throats if one of them even did as much as opening his or her mouth. They just stood there, staring at the place where they had seen the last human collapse until Zula finally decided to move and kneeled at the closest human victim to collect her arrows.

"You could _at least_ have allowed him to finish speaking."

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Zula chose to ignore the words spoken by her companion and instead to focus on the task at hand; retrieving her arrows. She took a tight hold of the arrow, gathering every bit of concentration before slowly pulling it backwards and out of the wound. Unlike she had suspected, it actually seemed like she would get the arrow out without breaking—

"Fine. If you're going to be like that I just have to find that cave they were talking about by myself."

SNAP!

Anger filled lavender eyes glared up only to find that the other elf was no longer there; he was already making his way towards where the humans had said this strange 'cave' would be. By himself. Again. He just never learned, did he now? "Halla's nuts." The she-elf muttered as she reluctantly rose to her feet once more; this time to chase after her clansmate and to hopefully actually prevent him from getting himself killed or something alike... at least until she was done with him. For all they knew this could be a human trap after all!

And if this really was a human trap; she was so going to kill him.

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**Elvish – English**

Halam sahlin – This ends now.  
Lethallan – Casual reference used for a female with whom one is familiar.  
Shemlen/Shem – The original name of the elves for the human race.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to place a review, they make me happy~


	2. Supper and Lies

**Author's Note: **Like in my previous Dragon Age story, the members of our merry group here are placing quite a few bets on each other to pass the time. If you have a great idea for a bet that you think should appear in the story (example: OMGG! Zula and Zevran should totally bet that even Alistair can't stand his own cooking!) feel free to suggest it to me in a review. It might actually appear in the story.

This chapter is mostly a re-cap of what has happened between the prologue and now.

**Disclaimer: **I own only what I made up myself.

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**ONE - SUPPER AND LIES**

The dim light of the campfire sun glowed through the trees accompanied by the unmistakable sound of Alistair's now almost nightly routine to get other people to try and eat his... well, let's be nice and call it food for once; even though most of them were quite sure that eating it would most likely result in instant death. They had set up camp when the sun had disappeared behind the trees, both him and Zula agreeing on the fact that it would be painfully stupid to travel through the forest at night with one giant, four humans, one golem, three dwarves (two of them being merchants and one of them being—well, mostly and probably drunk) and a flat-ear that all had no idea on how to navigate this forest or whatsoever.

An entire week had passed since they had first entered the Brecilian Forest; and still they still had not into any of the Dalish. You could tell by the reactions Alistair was receiving that the time they'd spend in the forest was getting to them though – especially the humans seemed to be uncharacteristically nervous. Even Wynne had raised her voice at Alistair just now when he had shoved that bowl of grey stew under her nose for the third time.

Then again, he supposed he couldn't really blame them; this forest wasn't known for its good will towards humans after all.

Without further delay Tamlen stepped out of the shadows and onto the small campsite, dropping the few rabbits he had caught next to the fire with Leliana so that she could prepare them for supper instead of the death-in-a-bowl Alistair was handing out. In exchange he received a thankful smile as the bard went off to prepare the food, leaving him standing by himself next to the fire...well okay, Oghren was there too, but he was passed out snoring like he had just swallowed a cat or something so he didn't really count.

Letting his dark eyes further inspect the campsite he found Bodahn, Wynne and Sten near the edge of the camp seemingly in the middle of a card game (one that looked a suspiciously lot like the poker game Fenarel had brought back to the clan that one time), Shale keeping watch near the other side of camp, Morrigan lecturing his Mabari hound for some reason and eventually; a small group of two elves and a human standing near the only tent they had set up for the night – lacking the space for any other.

As he neared the group he noticed that the templar was once again armed with his bowl of stew (or maybe it was soup... it all looked the same) as he was talking to the two elves, one of them obviously less amused by the situation than the other.

"Yes, but that was only once." He overheard Zevran say manner-of-factly when he got close enough to the group. "You, on the other hand, have tried to poison me on several occasions now."

"It's not poison, it's food!" Alistair exclaimed.

"It _really_ is not, Alistair." The third figure finally said; one whose slender yet curvy frame and midnight black hair he could recognize out of thousands. "Have you ever tried it yourself?"

Sensing his honour being put on the line here; Alistair almost instantly produced a spoon from his pocket and dug it into the stew (again: it could also be some kind of weird soup), using it to bring a large chunk of the grey substance to his mouth. Much to everyone's surprise however, he actually seemed to enjoy the stuff! Even going as far as moving more of it from his bowl to his mouth and actually swallowing the grey stew down!

The elves could only stare at him in disbelieve as he finished the bowl with a satisfied smirk on his face, all of them still half-expecting the templar to drop down dead any moment now. When this did not happen however it was Zevran who first seemed to recover, holding out his hand to Zulandra. "I do believe you owe me three sovereigns now, my dear Warden."

An annoyed grunt was heard as the Warden produced three gold coins out of her pouch muttering something among the lines of "Na Harellan" as she pressed the coins in the annoyingly satisfied looking flat-ear's hand.

Now it was Alistair's turn to be flabbergasted as he obviously tried to figure out why the two elves were exchanging money over him eating the stew.

"...are you guys betting on me?"

Zevran responded to this question by casting a brilliant smile towards the templar – you know, one of those grins like the cat that ate the canary has – while Zula... well, she was saved by Tamlen grabbing a hold of her wrist and dragging her off. "We need to talk." Was all he had said, leaving it to the Antivan Crow to explain to Alistair just how many bets were currently running against him.

oOo

"I can't believe we're already in this forest for an entire week." Alistair exclaimed, letting himself fall down next to Leliana who was currently pinning the now skinned rabbits on a stick to roast above the fire. Off in the distance, he could see Tamlen dragging their leader away to Maker knows where - oh well, as long as they were back in time for their watch duties... maybe they would return with more food. That would be nice.

"It is said that if you feel you are being watched in the Brecilian Forest, you are." The bard noticed carefully, looking over her shoulder as if she was expecting someone to stand right behind her. "I now finally understand why."

Alistair nodded, silently agreeing.

He did not quite understand why they were still wondering the forest when they had not one but two _Dalish_ wardens to guide them through it. True, this forest was huge and it would probably take anyone that did not know the exact way months to travel from one side to the other, but something about this entire thing wasn't sitting quite right with him.

Maybe it was the fact that all of trees were starting to look very familiar to him – as if they had already travelled through this part of the forest.

But they couldn't be lost, right?

Zulandra was of no use either; back when they had left Osagar she had agreed to lead their strange group, even after they had stumbled upon that clansmate of her – Tamlen – back at Flemeth's hut. He still wasn't sure why the elf had been there, or why Duncan hadn't told him that he had saved and put another dalish elf though the joining... Urgh, sometimes he really wished he could ask the man those last questions. Somehow, he had expected that this entire thing would be a lot more easier with at least one (now two) other wardens by his side, but it had proven more than a few times to make things only more complicated than they already were. Not that he wanted them to leave – oh no! Could you just imagine him having though all of this by himself? To actually _lead_? No no no no no no.

Things would have been so much easier if Tamlen and Zulandra had been human... though he did not dare say that when they were around. Such a remark would most likely reward him with an arrow between his eyes.

But he could still think about it, as far as he knew Zula and Tamlen weren't able to read minds after all.

If they hadn't been dalish but human instead, they wouldn't have had a wolf named Assan travelling with them. 'Cause apparently, wolves made great pets for the dalish – great, dangerous, pets that steal meat off your plate. And talking about meat-stealers, that Mabari hound Tamlen had found wasn't much better. Also, if they had been human he would understand everything (or at least most of it, given that there would be Fereldan) they said, instead of having to guess it whenever they were speaking in that elvish language of theirs. They would also be able to read and write in something other than elvish, which would also be useful when they were reading a map for example.

Humans would also have complained less in Orzammar (or at least he'd liked to think that), and might have been less suspicious when they had gone to the Circle Tower than the two dalish had been. Humans would have been a lot less hostile towards other humans on numerous of occasions, though he had to admit that even Zula was becoming more friendly towards him, Wynne and Leliana lately. Whether this was because she was simply getting used to him or just tired of ignoring him the entire time he wasn't sure. He was already glad that he could now have a conversation with her without having to think everything he was going to say over thrice to make sure it wouldn't be offensive and he would actually survive said conversation.

'_And humans wouldn't put finding Andraste's Ashes off till the last moment.' _He couldn't help but to mentally add, though his thoughts were soon interrupted by a series of sounds that made his neck skin crawl.

What was that?

Whispers?

Alistair turned narrowed his eyes, trying to peek through the shadows underneath the trees around their campsite. Leliana was right, it did feel like they were being watched... but he couldn't find anyone actually _watching _them.

"People have always spoken of dark and mysterious woods, haunted by unseen beings. The Brecilian Forest is one such forest." Leliana explained as she put the last rabbit over the fire, having noticed his sudden discomfort. "They say the Veil is thin here and spirits from the Fade pass over, drifting through the trees and giving them an unnatural and sinister intelligence."

"Why haven't we heard this before?"

He was referring back to the whispers that seemed to be getting louder—no, louder wasn't the right word. The whispers stayed on the same volume, just barely audible, but they became more frequent. Like more and more joined the already excising ones as time drew by. Every now and then he thought he could make out a spoken word, only to realize that the words whispered weren't from any language he knew.

"I do not know." The bard admitted, absently rubbing her arms in a futile attempt to get rid of the discomforting feeling she was having. "Long ago, a lot of elves died here...maybe it has something to do with both Tamlen and Zula not being here right now."

"They better get back soon." Alistair muttered, his gaze focusing on where he had seen the pair disappear into the forest.

oOo

Neither of the elves spoke a word as Tamlen led them further away from camp, seemingly wanting to make sure that the conversation they were about to have wouldn't be 'accidentally' overheard by curious ears. Zula for once just allowed him to drag her around... at least for now she did. He would never allow himself to lead her into a trap after all. Not again.

'_And if this really is a human trap; I am so going to kill him.'_

Her face grew dark as she remembered the thought she had had all those months ago when she had followed Tamlen back to that rotten, darkspawn-filled cave. She remembered being so furious with him that day- until after the mirror when she'd thought she had lost him. Losing your clansman, your best friend, one of the few people you could actually trust with your life... it had felt like she had been trampled by a dozen hallas. And then Keeper Marethari had told her that she could no longer stay with the clan; that she had to go with the Grey Wardens; that she would have fall to the darkspawn taint if she would discard this order.

She had kept up a strong mask for the ones to see her on the outside, but on the inside she had felt completely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of her; everything she had ever cared about having been ripped right out of her being.

Being actually tainted had made it even worse.

They had been right; the Joining had stopped the taint from spreading, but it apparently hadn't been able to undo what the darkspawn taint had already done to her body. There were times now (usually when she was upset or angry) when her eyes would turn completely black, even the white disappearing behind the dark hue – and for Tamlen this was the same. But, as far as she knew, that was it and she should probably be glad about it. By now, she had already seen enough ghouls and shierks to know that the alternative was in fact; quite worse.

"..and then Alistair confessed his eternal love to me."

"Wait. What?"

Tamlen grinned.

"Oh, so you are paying attention! Ar din nadas."

An half-smirk appeared on Zula's face as she rolled her eyes in mocked desperation, crossing her arms and leaning back against a nearby tree observing her companion. They had come to a stop on a safe distance from camp, though close enough to be able to hear it if something would actually go wrong there. Not entirely private, but enough for a hushed conversation. "Abelas, ven vir."

Although she had just told him to continue his story – or at least explain why he had brought her here – Tamlen remained silent after her words. His silence had always been unsettling to her, though she had found that lately Tamlen was residing to silence more and more often, saying that he needed time to think and he couldn't do so with a dozen voices in his head. It stayed silent for a few more seconds before she could finally hear her Lethallin draw in a long breath before asking the question she had been so afraid to hear ever since entering the forest:

"Why are we walking in circles?"

This question felt like a slap in the face to Zula. Of course she had known that she had been leading the group in large circles around the forest for the past few days... but they weren't supposed to know about it. Not even Tamlen.

Instead of looking at him she chose to pull a face, looking back towards the direction of the camp. "So you've noticed?"

Tamlen scoffed. "It's hard not to notice. It surprises me that none of the others recognizes the area's we walk through. But then again, they didn't grow up with this forest as their home for over twenty years." When Zulandra stayed silent instead of responding to his question like she usually would he hesitatingly rose his hand, only to grab her shoulder and turn her around; forcing her to look him in the eyes.

Fear.

That was what he saw in those eyes... but why? A Dalish hunter feared nothing! Yes, that were the words she always has been so keen on reminding him of. But even before he could question her about it she had slapped away his hand and placed her emotionless mask back on, making it clear that now was not the time.

"We'll go to the camp tomorrow."

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**Elvish – English**

Na Harellan – You trickster (mild insult, can be jokingly).  
Ar din nadas – I wasn't sure.  
Abelas, ven vir – Sorry, go ahead.  
Lethallan – Casual reference used for a female with whom one is familiar.  
Lethallin – Casual reference used for a male with whom one is familiar.  
Shemlen/Shem – The original name of the elves for the human race.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to place a review, they make me happy~


	3. Hungry Wolves

**Author's note: **Kind of a boring chapter, but I had to get them to the Dalish. Next chapter will be better, I promise! ;D Next chapter will also have more TamlenxZulandra in it, hihi~ Oh! And thanks for all of your reviews! Six already, yay! Reviews make me want to write faster - hahaha. Hm, and I love the idea from - well, I don't know your name, Guest, I guess? - on the entire group betting on when Zula and Tamlen are going to get together... might just throw that in for fun ;D

**Disclaimer: **I own only what I made up myself.

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**TWO - HUNGRY WOLVES**

"Get off me you fen'alas!" Zula screamed as the full weight of a large wolf jumped onto her helpless frame.

The beast had sprung from the bushes towards Zulandra with its sharp teeth, soon joined by the rest of its pack that were now being held off by her companions. Before she could even aim properly, the wolf had already begun snapping at her trying to get a taste of her flesh. Its snarling jaw was only a few inches from her face when the raven haired elf grabbed a nearby abandoned arrow and dug the head into the wolf's neck. The wolf's body went slack as its life drained out, making her finally able to forcefully push the huge creature off. She didn't have long before another one was upon her, but this time she was ready for it. She had fired an arrow into the wolf's skull before it was even within biting distance, adrenaline pumping through her veins. From out her eye corner she could see Sten ragging his huge blade through another one of their attackers and – with a final grunting howl – the last wolf fell dead on the musky forest ground.

Weapons drawn, they silently waited for another attack but luckily none came. The wolves had backed off for now. Or maybe that had simply been all of them... but why would such a small pack attack such a large group of well-armed, healthy people?

"Strange, for them to attack us just like that." Tamlen noticed as he wiped his blade clean, apparently having the exact same thoughts as she was having. Wolves usually preferred unfair fights, when their own survival chances were at their best, even the animals must have realized that an attack like this would have led to their certain death.

"Why is that strange?"

Of course the shemlen wouldn't understand.

Both Zulandra and Tamlen decided to simply ignore the templar's question as she started to count the wolf corpses and after that, her companions. Shale and Morrigan were following them on a distance along with Bodahn, Sandall and their wares; making sure that the wagon would be safe while the others would scout the area for a sign of the Dalish hunters that they knew would be in the area. And with 'they' I actually mean; Tamlen and Zula.

Quickly giving up the hope to ever have his question answered, Alistair had already started to make his way further into the forest again when he was suddenly stopped by the sound of someone clearing her throat not that far behind him – finding that it was Zula who was currently pointing over to one of the carcasses on the ground.

He looked at her in confusion, obviously having no idea what she was trying to get him to do here.

A sigh escaped her mouth as she pinched her nose, obviously annoyed by the lack of knowledge the human had. She stayed in that position for a short moment before opening her eyes again and looking straight at the dim-witted templar. "You need to bring one of those with you." Zula explained, once again gesturing over to one of the dead wolves.

"What?" Alistair asked, obviously confused by the announcement. "Why?"

"A peace offering." Tamlen – who was already helping Leliana hoisting one of the large animals over her shoulders – impatiently explained. Sten had obeyed the order as soon as it had left Zulandra's mouth and had even went as far as carrying a second one so that Wynne wouldn't have to while Oghren already had a wolf swung over his shoulders for some reason—yeah, she didn't want to know why.

"Fair enough. But do we really need one each?" The bard asked, already hunching slightly due to the weight.

"Yes. You really do, unless you fancy an arrow between your eyes."

With that, both Dalish elves turned to continue their way through the woods, leaving their companions standing there for a few moments to fully take in their words before anyone actually dared to move after them. Sten and Oghren were the first, with the other three hanging back for a moment longer as the pondered the elves' words.

"Are they serious?" Alistair eventually asked, giving Leliana a questioning look.

"I do not know? She sounded quite serious."

There was a short silence between them, one that was eventually broken by a thick Antivan accent. "Oh well, I rather fancy my face without the arrow." Zevran announced, slinging one of the smaller wolves over his shoulders before following after their companions – the two humans soon following his example.

Somewhere along the road they would find that Oghren's wolf wasn't entirely dead yet; as it had started to wake from its half-comatosed state to blunt it's teeth on the chainmail over his shoulder. The dwarf himself didn't seem to notice though, muttering something about being glad that the wolves hadn't stolen his pants (apparently they had been _very_ jealous of his pants) this time as he took another large gulp from his flagon. It was eventually Sten that put the animal out of his misery by beheading it right there on the dwarf's shoulder, almost taking off Oghrens's head as well – which had led to the dwarf letting loose the longest string of the finest dwarven curses they would probably hear in their entire life.

oOo

A few minutes before they walked into the patrolling area of the Dalish clan Zulandra abruptly stopped and turned around to face the rest of the group. "We will encounter the hunters of the clan shortly" She said "So listen very carefully; the first one who _somehow_, in _any_ kind of way offend _anyone_ from the clanwill be send back to Shale and Morrigan _immediately_, I hope for _you _that you remember the way back. Do you understand?"

The group nodded in unison.

"Good." She continued "Now, to prevent this from happening there are three rules. First; don't speak unless I or Tamlen tell you to. Second; never draw your weapons in camp. Don't even touch or look at them." The rouge paused a moment to let her words soak in "The third is only for Oghren: either don't drink at all, or drink so much that you pass out as soon as we enter camp."

The dwarf snorted "Think I'll go for the latter" He announced before taking a large gulp of his booze.

"Very well." Zula sighed "Then let us continue."

They continued in a slower pace only to be intercepted by five hunters a few minutes after the briefing. '_Why have they set out such big patrolling groups? The usual groups consist of only two hunters each...' _from out her eye corner she saw Tamlen struggling with that same question.

"Three shemlen, a dwarf, a Qunari and three flat-ears" One of the female hunters mused, bow pointed on Zulandra "Nice catch... they can join the other shem."

"_We_ are no flat-ears." Tamlen and Zulandra both took a step forward when he spoke "I am Tamlen Ilen, this is Zulandra Mahariel. We are hunters from the clan of Marethari. Our... _companions_ here have brought offerings to the clan."

The hunter sniffed "Tamlen and Zulandra are dead." She pulled the string of her bow back "Now I ask you, _why_ are you invading our camp and disrespecting our dead?"

"Felas!" Tamlen snapped "Which soul could copy one's Vallaslin?"

The left handed hunter lowered his bow "I knew Zulandra and Tamlen personally, these two are them no doubt. They haven't changed a bit since the last time I saw them." When she focused her gaze on him Zulandra recognized the elf as Pol, a city-elf that had joined their clan a few weeks before she left. He looked different now, apparently he had gained his vallaslin but he looked a lot...older and was covered in fresh scars.

The elf next to Pol scoffed "The Zulandra I knew, would rather drink poison than travel with shemlens."

"When you join the Grey Wardens you are not given much of a choice, Fenarel." Zulandra replied through gritted teeth, the elf frowned on hearing her voice. After a few seconds she heard him letting out a sigh as he lowered his bow as well "Pol is right" Fenarel said simply.

The female elf, apparently the leader of the patrolling group, had a hard time hiding her surprise. And after she somehow had managed to hide it, her eyes suddenly went big anyway and filled themselves with fear "A-A-Abelas m-mi'then!" She stumbled "I-I didn't know...P-Please forgive me for my behavior!"

Tamlen and Zulandra both nodded stiffly and the elf seemed to relax a bit. "My name is Mithra. You- you said you joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens?"

"We both have." Zulandra answered. "We need to speak to the keepers."

"Then I shall take you to them right away. Pol will see to the offerings you brought."

oOo

While Pol and the other hunters accompanied Alistair, Wynne, Leliana, Oghren, Zevran and Sten to the centre of the camp - to drop off their offerings they'd said. Though both Dalish elves knew that their kinsmen just wanted the 'outsiders' in one place; the place where they could best keep an eye on them. Tamlen and Zulandra on the other hand, were taken to the side of the camp where the two largest tents of the encampment had been set up. One of them obviously belonged to the clan's Keeper. The other- well, it was a Keeper's tent as well... but which clan would have two keepers?

...And why had Pol and Fenarel been here in the first place?

Unfortunatly, these questions remained unanswered as they had arrived at the keeper's aravel, where they were greeted by a bald elf, probably somewhere in his forties. "Hmmm, I see we have guests. And two of our own, no less."

"These are Zulandra Mahariel and Tamlen Ilen, they are from Marethari's clan but claim to have come here on behalf of the Grey Wardens."

He nodded before turning to Mithra "Ma serannas Mithra, you may return to your post."

"Ma nuvenim, Keeper."

The elf waited until the hunter was gone before he continued speaking "Now, as Mithra already introduced you, I shall introduce myself as well. I am Zathrian, Keeper and Hahren of this clan." '_So, this is Zathrian...' _She thought_ 'The first Dalish that regained his immortality.'_ Although her clan had strong bands with Zathrian's clan she had never had the chance to meet the keeper in person. "If you come to bring news of the Blight in the south, it is not needed." Zathrian continued "I had already sensed its corruption."

"Then why haven't you take your clan north by now?" Zulandra asked

The keeper looked away from them, as he ignored her questions completely "I suppose you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made." The she-elf followed his gaze and found about two dozen occupied bedrolls on the end of it. All occupied with wounded elves. "This would require some...explanation. Please follow me."

They did what he asked and soon they found themselves standing amongst dozens of wounded elves. Most of them were severely injured, bleeding from several large gaping wounds on their body – all of them looked like they were suffering from intense mental pain. Like they trapped inside their worst memories; an eternal nightmare. There wasn't a single elf not covered in a thick layer of cold sweat as they coughed up blood, screamed in fear. And still, they seemed to be completely unaware of their surroundings, unresponsive to any of the attempts their family and friends made to comfort them. It was almost like they were no longer on this world – spirit trapped in the fade. "The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden." The keeper started to explain as they came to a halt somewhere in the middle of the field. "We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying and wait for us..."

She gestured for him to continue his story, which he did "We met up with Marethari's on our way to the Arlathvhen. But when we camped for the night the werewolves...ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." The keeper kneeled next to one of the wounded hunters and putted a hand on his forehead "Even with all our magic and healing skill we will be eventually forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts." He stood up "The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

Zulandra looked from Zathrian to the wounded and back.

"Is there a way to help them?"

While Zula was talking to the keeping Tamlen wandered off, walking through the maze of bedrolls, carefully inspecting the faces of the elves lying on them – hoping not to recognize any of them. _'I will never forgive myself if-' _He couldn't even finish this thought as his eyes glided over the sick and dying.

"He is not here Da'len." A reassuring, and very familiar voice told him.

Tamlen looked around and saw, much to his relieve, Keeper Marethari standing a few feet behind him, tending the wounds of one of the elves. She was still standing there with her back towards him, but for some reason he just knew it was her. There was no doubt. "Ma serannas, keeper." He said with a weak smile on his face as he walked over to where the leader of his clan- _previous _clan was currently standing. She did not look up when he joined her next to the bed, and he was about to comment on that until he followed her gaze towards the person laying on top of the bedroll, his breath catching in his throat.

"...Ashalle"

* * *

**Elvish – English**

Da'len – Child.  
Ma serannas – Thank you.  
Ma nuvenim – As you wish.  
Fen'alas – Dirt wolf (insult).  
Felas – Slow (of mind), here used as idiot/fool.  
Hahren – Elder. Used as a term of respect by the Dalish.  
Mi'then – Literally; awake blade. Honorary title for Dalish hunters.  
Vallaslin – Blood writing; the tattoos the Dalish have to honour their gods.  
Lethallan – Casual reference used for a female with whom one is familiar.  
Lethallin – Casual reference used for a male with whom one is familiar.  
Shemlen/Shem – The original name of the elves for the human race.


	4. Dalish Rejects

**Author's Notes:** IMPORTANT! The Dalish appearing in my story might differ a bit compared to the Dalish appearing in Dragon Age: Origins. I wanted to give them more of a culture of their own, including more of their own religion and believes which in turn makes it harder for Zula and Tamlen to cope with the Dalish now that they are no longer a part of the clan, but seen as outsiders instead. More about this will be explained in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own dragon age... but I do own my own ideas.

* * *

**THREE - DALISH REJECTS**

The elf sat in total silence besides motionless body of the woman that had been her guardian for over ten years. Her legs were tucked underneath her, an emotionless mask as she watched Ashalle's unnaturally pale face struggling itself from one tortured expression to the next. The older elf had awoken once from her feverish sleep, moments after Zula had come to her side, though the sight had not been pretty. Instead of welcoming her back to the clan like a mother would do for her lost child Ashalle had started screaming, throwing vile threats and insults as Zulandra for leaving the clan.

"_You fled! You fled because of a cold! You left us alone to be slaughtered by those shemlen! The werewolves–"_

Zula had found that, the night she had left the clan for the Grey Wardens, friends and family members of the humans she and Tamlen had encountered – and killed – back in the forest had returned to the camp to take their revenge; murdering a large part of the clan and wounding even more. They never stood a chance. Not without their two best hunters. Not when everyone had been grieving their loss. No one had expected it to happen – they had been caught in surprise. Of course Zulandra hadn't left out of free will but because of the taint... but it didn't matter. Bottom line was; she hadn't been there when her clan had needed her the most. And they'd paid dearly for it.

The clan had been weakened and too fragile to keep moving by itself when they'd encountered Zathrian's clan – choosing traveling with this vaguely familiar clan over continuing their travels in the state they had been in.

That was when the werewolves had attacked.

"_..it's your fault they attacked. We wouldn't have been here if you and Tamlen hadn't been so felas!"_

Ashalle's yells had echoed away over the entire campsite. Most Dalish had been polite enough to pretend not to hear anything, but the looks of disapprove they had given Tamlen and Zulandra were unignorable – they'd made no effort to hide their mistrust. It was obvious they (or at least a large part of them) agreed with Ashalle, even though none of them actually dared to voice these thoughts. For Ashalle to do this so openly was strange enough... but maybe that was just the curse getting to her.

As for Zulandra; she had just sat there. Her face an emotionless mask as she allowed the wave of curses and threats from her former guardian wash over her, giving off no visual response to any of it. Only when Tamlen had actually placed his hand on her shoulder to get her attention had he been able to feel the tenseness there – her muscles were so tense he was surprised if it wasn't actually physically hurting her.

"Sahlin lethallan," Tamlen said, giving her shoulder a soft pull as to motivate her to get back up on her feet. "Let's get back to the others. "

A stiff nod was all he got for a response before she rose, never looking back at the motionless form of Ashalle as they walked towards the center of the Dalish camp and the rest of their strange traveling group. They did not speak; Tamlen's hand still on her shoulder to guide her through the labyrinth of bedrolls, casting a dark glare towards a few of their former clan-members whenever their whispers became too loud.

It was quite obvious what they were thinking. Tamlen and Zulandra had left them without a proper reason. Because of a light fever – as many of them had voiced it. It seemed like Marethari had not told them about the graveness of the darkspawn taint... or maybe she hadn't been allowed to.

"How did we become their scapegoats?"

Tamlen looked up at her confession, only to find her eyes staring off in the distance and the emotionless mask still firmly hiding the rest of her emotions.

"I don't know lethallan... I don't know."

oOo

"Ah. Yep. Lot of tension around here. Strange elven folk."

As soon as this sentence had made it out of the dwarf's foul smelling mouth Alistair was already getting a bad feeling about what would follow. Maybe... maybe it would go away if he would ignore it... like Tamlen's Mabari when he had food he did not want to share.

The elf Zulandra and Tamlen had referred to as 'Pol' had brought them to the center of the camp, where they were supposed to hang around until the two Dalish Grey Wardens would return. The wolves they had brought as an offering had been taken from then upon their arrival, and from what he could see a handful of Dalish were now busy skinning the carcasses. They also appeared to be draining some sort of liquid from the wolves... but he had not really dared to ask about that. The elves were already suspicious enough like this. Let's try and not make that worse.

"You know what I do to relieve tension?"

Too bad Oghren was so determined to do just the opposite of that.

Maybe it would go away if he gave it more alcohol... though Zulandra would probably hide that hunter's knife somewhere in his stomach if he would allow Oghren to have any more booze and embarrass them in front of the entire clan. Might still be worth it though; an arrow through the head even somehow sounded like it would be less painful than continuing this conversation with the red-haired dwarf.

"I polish the ol' weapon. Give it a good shine. With a dry rag, then with a little grease."

"That's disgusting." Alistair finally concluded, watching how Pol turned nine shades of green at the dwarf's statement before casting them a disturbingly dark glare. Obviously, the elf was not amused. It was probably best to cut off the conversation right now. Before someone would actually get hurt.

Too bad Oghren seemed quite happy continuing the conversation even without his input.

"I don't get why the sod do we keep hearing about elves cheerfully frolicking in the thicket and nug-spew like that back in Orzammar. Dreary place could use a little-"

"Here my stocky little friend, brewed for you especially!"

Right before Pol or any of the other Dalish hunters would actually be tempted to rag an arrow through Oghren's head, a medium-sized wineskin flew to the air towards Oghren – one that he caught with surprising accuracy might I tell you. then again, maybe his reflexes were just motivated by the promise of booze coming his way – who placed it almost instantly to his lips.

"Ahh, thanks elf. Y'arr allll-right." Oghren concluded, turning to Zevran to continue his conversation with the elf instead of yelling it to Alistair who was standing quite a few feet away still.

Pol and the other elves seemed to calm down a bit not soon after Oghren had quieted down, slowly focusing back on their own daily tasks and paying less attention to the still very much unwanted guests in the middle of their camp.

"Are you sure feeding him more alcohol is a good idea?"

"No, but who knows?" Alistair smirked. "Maybe he'll do tricks later." The smirk still on his face, the templar turned around only to find himself staring in a pair of vibrant blue, unfamiliar eyes. He had expected it to be one of the elves that had decided to talk to him – he couldn't have been more wrong.

In front of him stood a woman, a very _human_-looking woman, with wavy chocolate brown hair that just reached past her shoulders and bright blue eyes. Her face was delicate, appearing like it had never seen great hardships but had enjoyed luxury instead – at least until more recently, judging from the still somewhat fresh appearing burn marks that trailed down her neck only to disappear beneath the veridium armor she was wearing.

"You..." Alistair started, only suddenly find himself at a loss of words. Heh, can you imagine? The king of witty one-liners completely put to silence by one look. Come on, he had to come up with something now... or at least finish the sentence he'd started... she was staring! "...you do not look like an elf."

Oh wow, that was wonderful. Deep too. Now, if the floor would just open up and swallow him whole... that'll be great.

He would slap himself if only he hadn't thought that such an action would make the girl in front of him think even weirder of him than she already did. Instead, he settled for nervously rubbing his neck and pretending to have found great interest in staring at a nearby dalish tent. But much to his surprise he heard a short, feminine chuckle right next to him only moments after he'd spoken – cutting the awkwardness short.

"No, I suppose I do not." The woman replied, tilting her head at him in a mocking expression. "..and since you're obviously not an elf either, I suppose they have caught you as well?"

'_So, she's the prisoner they were talking about earlier?' _He frowned._ 'She doesn't look like a criminal...'_

"Caught? No, no, no, no. We're here on business. Very important business." There was a short pause in his sentence where he wondered whether or not to tell them the precise reason behind their visit, but she was laughing now so he decided he might as well just go with the wacky explanation. Zula would probably prefer that anyway... Grey Warden business was better kept secret. "Manly business; with pointy swords and big enemies. Very dangerous. My name is Alistair by the way."

He wasn't completely lying.

"Melissa." The woman – apparently called Melissa – replied, though she was stopped from saying anything else by the arrival of Zulandra and Tamlen, both of them not appearing like they were in the best of moods.

Zula, still being their leader and all, made short work of gathering everyone around – even a _quite_ tipsy Oghren that kept blaming his farts on the 'antler-beasts' (also known as the halla in the pen behind them) during the time she spoke – and explaining the situation at hand to them, including what had to be done in order to gain the support of the Dalish in their fight against the Blight. "...we have to participate in a ritual before we're allowed to enter the heart of the forest. This ritual will be preformed tonight – we'll leave in the morning."

And with that, she dismissed the group and told them to continue whatever they had been doing – or prepare for tomorrow. Yeah and just his luck, because timing hates him and everything, Leliana had chosen exactly _that_ moment (the moment _just_ after Alistair had called their group and business 'manly') to start talking about shoes with Zula... okay, more against Zula since the dalish elf didn't wear shoes in the first place... but still.

"So, 'manly business' you said?" Melissa reminded him, barely able to hide her smile as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Okay, yes, she's our leader." Alistair admitted, before continuing on a lower tone. "But she's actually half a man so that doesn't really count."

"Hey!"

'_Damn the elven hearing.'_

"Ehh..."

"Heh." Oghren interrupted (probably unconsciously saving a certain templar's life) with a sudden desperate attempt to try and contain his giggles as he was reminded of something else he knew about the Dalish. "I saw some pictures of elven rituals." More giggles escaped his mouth before he added. "_Dirty_ pictures."

Alistair could swear he saw Zula turning several shades of red right there – while Tamlen had conveniently disappeared in one of the tents just a few moments before. The she-elf opened her mouth once, then seemed to change her mind and closed it again. This action was repeated several times before she eventually let out an annoyed huff and shook her head."Just... keep drinking, Oghren."

"Aye, boss." He replied, a few more giggles escaping his mouth as he raised his mug.

"Sooo..." Melissa trailed, a vague smile on her face as she watched Zula walk off in an attempt to guard the rest of her pride before turning back to Alistair. "I guess that drunk dwarf just saved your life?"

Alistair grinned.

"Guess so."

oOo

"I have gotten used to no longer questioning the ingredients of a drink that has just been given to me..." Zevran started, his voice low as to avoid disturbing the dalish chants in the background, though loud enough for the elf sitting next to him to hear – which happened to be Zulandra. "...but I have to ask; what is this, my dear warden?"

They had all gathered around a smaller campfire near the edge of the Dalish camp, where they had been joined by keeper Marethari and a handful of Dalish hunters that would accompany them to the heart of the forest the next day – or at least until they felt like they would be able to handle the situation alone. Melissa had also joined them, a thing Zulandra especially hadn't been too thrilled about, but after a few words from Alistair she had begrudgingly agreed... or maybe she had only agreed because Marethari had stood with him when he had told them that Melissa could be of use during their quest. Yeah... that was probably it.

"Wine." She replied stiffly, carefully watching as keeper Marethari handed out bowls similar to the one Zevran had just been given to the rest of their group (all containing the same suspicious looking liquid) with the exception of Zula herself and Tamlen, before pausing next to the large kettle that has contained the liquid as if to think about something before continuing the ritual.

At that explanation Zevran finally brought the clay bowl from her bowl to his lips, though he still did not seemed convinced and quickly lowered it again. Raising his eyebrows at the dark red substance inside of it, and the weird smell, the assassin tilted his head. "And..?"

"...Blood." Zula added, more quietly.

"Blood?!" Leliana chipped in, sounding quite alarmed and thus not even thinking about lowering her voice so that not the entire campsite would be able to hear her. Yup, she'd sounded almost as alarmed as Alistair's face stood right now... he had already finished his bowl.

"Shhh..!" The keeper hushed, obviously not too happy with the loud outsiders interrupting her ritual before gesturing the Dalish around her to continue their disturbed chant again. She herself grabbed two more bowls, pouring more of the liquid inside of it.

"...what kind of blood?" Leliana asked, this time more carefully to avoid further disturbances.

"It's the blood from the wolves you brought." Tamlen replied, from Zulandra's other side. "By drinking the blood of the prey you hunt you'll tell the forest that you won't bring harm to anything other than the wolves that are hurting it. In return, it will allow you safe passage."

Sensing the doubt crossing the members of her party that had not yet drunk the mixture of blood (which was everyone with the exception of Alistair, Sten and Oghren; the last one already having been convinced to drink it the moment she had told them there was wine in it and Sten having just finished it without a word of question or complain after Zula had told him to), Zulandra decided to add a bit more to that explanation. "If you refuse, you won't be allowed into the forest."

"You do realize we're ask a _forest_ for safe a passage, do you?"

"Yes."

"Okay... Just checking."

Though still not sounding convinced, Zevran finally brought the bowl to his lips to take a sip. Judging from his face, it must have tasted horrible, but at least more of her party members seemed to be put at ease by Zevran not dropping dead minutes after his first sip – they too starting to force the drink down their throats in tiny, careful sips.

"Still beats Alistair's soup."

"HEY!"

Zula had almost allowed a soft chuckle to escape her mouth right there, though she was interrupted when a clay bowl was shoved underneath her nose. Looking up, she found Keeper Marethari holding it, a saddened expression on her aged face. "Da'len, take it."

Zulandra's eyes widened noticeably, knowing what the keeper was implying here. She was about to speak up, though able to bite her tongue at the last moment and instead just took the bowl; the rush of anger and betrayal she was feeling only being made visible through her darkening eyes, almost entirely black now. But there was nothing she could do about it anymore, so she might as well just drink the stupid stuff. She'd never been too big on all those Dalish traditions anyway.

Tamlen on the other hand was obviously not going to let this pass without a word, refusing the bowl instantly after the Keeper had offered it. "We are Dalish, the forest will recognize us." He insisted stubbornly, his usual pride getting in the way.

"Not anymore da'len." Marethari replied patiently. "Ir abelas, but we have to be sure."

The male elf glared up at his former keeper for a long moment; then, his eyes lowered itself to the bowl she was holding. "Din." He muttered angrily, pushing the bowl out of his way before raising to his feet and walking away from the fire with large steps, leaving the rest of their companions dumbstruck as they watched him go. Well, with the exception of Zulandra, who focusing all of her hatred onto the clay thing in her hands.

The keeper let out a sigh. She had already expected something like this to happen, but still wasn't something she liked to see. "Without the ritual, I can't allow him into the forest tomorrow." She eventually said, finding Zula's eyes in question. The younger elf would know what to do.

And she did.

"Ar nadas."

Zulandra took extreme care in biting out each word to voice her irritation, chucking her drink before chasing after her lethallin... he just couldn't make things easy for once, could he?!

It did not took her long to find him, even when he was the better tracker out of the two of them. After all, the campsite wasn't that big and the hunters were still guarding every edge of it. It was nearly impossible to get out of the camp without them noticing – especially without the keeper's blessing. Honestly, it had just been a matter of time and soon enough she had found that familiar blur of sandy-blonde hair and Dalish armour near the Halla pen.

A sigh escaped her mouth as she came to a halt a few feet behind him, alerting him of her presence and at the time calming her down a bit.

"Tamlen..."

He did not respond, but a slight twitch in his figure still made it clear to her that he had heard her call. Other people might not have noticed... but if you've known each other as long as Tamlen and Zula have, you'll get to know a lot about each other. In some ways, Zula even knew him better than he himself did.. though in other ways she could be completely clueless.

Damn his stubborn personality.

"I can't allow you into the forest if you don't participate in the ritual."

Almost instantly after she'd said this Tamlen had twisted around, looking in her direction with intense black eyes. "I am—" Tamlen paused, throwing his hands up in angry desperation. "_We_ are still Dalish. The forest will recognize that. Their treating us like we're not even a part of the clan anymore and you don't even care!"

"_We_ left, Tamlen." She reminded him. "We are no longer part of the clan."

Well, that did it.

"You know what? Never mind." Tamlen exclaimed as he pushed past her, anger filling every inch of his being. How could she not understand?! She was Dalish like he was, right? Hell, they'd even grown up together! How could she _not _be offended when they were thrown to the side as clanless? BY THEIR OWN CLAN! A dalish was nothing without his or her clan—and she—urgh! "I thought you would care more... you should care more! They're treating us like outsiders, like we're two of those creator damned flat-ears!"

Their noses were only inches apart by the time he was done shouting his vile words at her, but she simply kept silent; staring back at him with those dull black eyes that told him _nothing_. Not anymore. "For once," He continued, his voice now softer but still almost growling with anger. "I would like a lethallan that shows more emotion than a piece of ironbark!"

Instantly after saying those words he'd regretted them, seeing the flash of hurt skit pas her eyes as they slowly regained their colour. She quickly took a step back from him, his hand on her wrist the only thing stopping her from backing up further. "...abalas Zula. I didn't mean to-"

Zula interrupted him, voice cold as ice as she shook his hand off her; the emotionless mask was back.

"Let's just get back to the rest."

oOo

Sleeping in your _armour_, on the _floor_, _outside_, hadn't exactly been a dream coming true to him but, after having found out that Dalish wine was quite a bit stronger than the wine he had had (or well... maybe 'confiscated' from one of the brothers) back at the Chantry, he had found that even the harsh forest floor could be quite comfortable when tipsy enough.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

He _had_ only been tipsy last night, right?

There better not be stories... Zevran and Leliana would never allow him to live those down. Nor would Zulandra... or Wynne... Oh maker, his life was going to be a living hell from now on. Not even mentioning the headache he was currently having.

_Thud. Thud._

Maybe it would be best if he would just pretend to be dead for the rest of the day. Zula did not _really_ need him... right? She had enough people to support her. There was even a spare Grey Warden in the form of Tamlen if she was in need of another person with their special 'abilities'!

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

Yes. He would just stay here. Maybe Wynne had some sort of magical thingy to get his head to stop bouncing... and to stop the world from spinning while she was at it. That would be nice. And if that annoying 'thudding' against his armour plates would stop... yeah, that would be great too!

_THUD!_

"OW-!" Alistair exclaimed, eyes shooting open and arms grabbing his stomach in pain when the ironbark bow hit against his armour plating, HARD. Looking up, he could see the pale figure or a slender elf hovering above him, armed with a bow of dalish made and a very irritated expression on her face. "Maker's breath.. Zula... why?"

"Tamlen is gone." The elf explained as she hung the bow back over her shoulder. "I need you to gather a party and ask one of the hunters to bring you to the edge of the forest." She took a moment to think about that before starting to walk off into the direction of the forest, presumably into the direction she figured Tamlen to first wonder off to. "Preferably Merrill or Fenarel, they know the forest best. I'll go ahead and find him, we'll meet you there."

"Wait—" The templar said as he scrambled up. "I thought it was dangerous for people to enter the forest without the ritual?"

Zulandra froze for a moment before looking back over her shoulder at Alistair. There was something in her eyes... though he could not quite make out what it was. Honestly, it was somewhat hard for him to read elves, especially if they showed as little emotion as Zula did on an average basis...

"That's why I'm going ahead." After that, she disappeared into the forest.

* * *

**Elvish - English**

Din – Not. Here simply used as 'no'.  
Felas – Slow (of mind), here used as stupid/foolish.  
Ir abelas – 'My heart is filled with sorrow' or 'I am sorry'.  
Ar nadas – I am aware or I am sure, here used as 'I know'.  
Sahlin – Now, at this moment. Here used as 'come' or 'come now'.  
Vallaslin – Blood writing; the tattoos the Dalish have to honour their gods.  
Lethallan – Casual reference used for a female with whom one is familiar.  
Lethallin – Casual reference used for a male with whom one is familiar.  
Da'len – Child/Casual reference used for a person (much) younger than oneself.  
Shemlen/Shem – The original name of the elves for the human race (downgrading).

Thanks for reading! Heh, this chapter got a bit longer than I had planned... but, well; hope you've enjoyed it! Please leave a review! Oh, and do you guys have any opinion on who you would like to see tagging along on the Dalish mission? Oghren, Zevran, Tamlen's Mabari hound, Wynne, Leliana, Sten... maybe even Melissa? Who do you want to see more of in the story? I would love some ideas ;D Zula and her wolf, Tamlen and Alistair are going to be there without a doubt.. but who else?


	5. Struggling Onwards Pt1

**Author's Notes:** Ehh, sorry for the big pause between chapters! Had a busy holiday... backpacking through Europe takes up a lot of your time. Oh well, I won't keep you guys anylonger. Here is the latest chapter of Any Means Necessary!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own dragon age... but I do own my own ideas and characters.

* * *

**FOUR – STRUGGLING ONWARDS PART 1  
**

"He always does this." The elf muttered as she begrudgingly re-traced her steps until she would pick up Tamlen's track again, cursing him (and not for the first time today) for being the better tracker out of the two of them and laying out false trails... and a few other reasons – most of which you can probably guess. "Disappearing suddenly. Alone. Without notifying anyone." It was like he _wanted_ to get killed. URGH! Zula kicked the ground in anger, making a few leaves fly up in the air as well as spooking the white wolf that had been shadowing her for quite some time now.

"One would think he'd learned his lesson last time he did this..."

This time she looked directly at the wolf as if expecting it to open its mouth and respond to her rant any second now... though of course it did not. Instead tilted his head as he stared at her with its bright blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to say something along the lines of _'How would I know? I'm just a wolf.' _before dropping his head again and resuming his task of sniffing the ground; looking for any scent that would point him and Zula to Tamlen's current location. The wolf made a few circles around the small meadow before letting out a short but low howl and charging off into the trees, Zula (who'd figured the wolf to be either tired of her complains or to have picked up Tamlen's trail again) following close behind.

Her bare feet came down lightly on the ground as she cleared the area with surprising speed, following after the wolf she had tamed in this very forest so many winters ago. She had to watch it though; the keeper had warned them for a white furred wolf, similar to Assan, roaming the forest along with the werewolves as if it was their leader. It wouldn't be good if she was to run into that wolf now, when she had no real back up to help her in the fight that would undoubtedly follow that encounter.

Zula was confident enough in her own abilities to know that she would be able to deal with most natural things hiding in the Brecillian forest, but these werewolves were nowhere near natural. And if she was to run into any of those wolves while still out here by herself... well, it would be on Tamlen's head. He had always been the one to get them into trouble; even leaving the clan and joining the Grey Wardens hadn't changed that.

'_When I find him, I'm going to make sure he never runs off again.' _

A grim grin settled on her face as she ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. Zevran probably still had some of that spare rope he kept talking about lying around... maybe tying him down with that would prevent Tamlen from running off by himself _again_.

Tamlen was one of those people that wanted to solve everything by himself – always had been too. A stupid kind of person to be much to her own opinion, especially now. The blight wasn't something he would be able to fix by himself... Duncan, Alistair, Flemeth and a number of other people had been very keen on reminding them of this fact. It was the whole reason behind them joining up with the other people currently in their party.

But he had always been like that. It was part of the reason they'd become friends in the first place; with him always getting them into trouble and her getting aggravated when he did. To be entirely honest, she would have been surprised if becoming a Grey Warden would have changed any of that.

He had been right about one thing though; becoming a Grey Warden had changed _her_ – and even though she hated to admit it; it didn't make it any less true. From out the entire clan, she had probably been the one that had hated humans the most.. yet, she was now travelling with a group made up of mostly humans and gathering even more (human) aid to help them fight the Blight. The old Zula had been an elf that solely trusted on her own instincts and emotions to guide her through her actions, but now she had been forced to change in favour of the bigger picture.

Tamlen had been right when he'd compared her to a piece of ironbark... she _had_ been shutting out her own emotions to make things easier. But still, hearing it directly from him had hurt her more than it should have.

A tired sigh escaped her lips as she remembered last night's events. Lately she had found herself caring a lot more about Tamlen's opinion on things than she used to do. Which was probably due to the fact that he now was the only link she still had to their clan and past...

Probably.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a short bark, followed by the sound of nails scratching over wood. Picking up speed Zula soon found herself standing in a small glade. A tree had fallen here, some years ago judging by the moss that covered its trunk. As it came down, it had taken several of its smaller neighbours with it, clearing an open space where Assan was currently sitting in the middle of; looking down at something what appeared to be, on closer inspection, a shield.

"Dirth na maraen?"

Lowering herself down on the ground next to the wolf the she-elf noticed that the ground directly around the shield was painted red with blood, the dark liquid still appearing fresh against the green grass. Her eyes settled on the shield for a moment before continuing onwards to follow the trail of blood, finding it disappearing into one of the nearby bushes.

The shield was Tamlen's no doubt there, she had brought it back from the circle tower for him herself, but with all this blood... this wasn't good.

"Sahlin Assan, vir nuvenin an lethallin. Shem."

oOo

Alistair could hear an angry hiss as another stray branch slapped the elf that was supposed to be their guide in the face. _'It's like her face is attracting them.' _He was at the point now where he was honestly having some doubts about Zula's choice in guides for them. Merrill was nice and all – and apparently not even that hostile towards humans for a change – but she did not really seem to know what she was doing. "Are you alright?" He asked, quickening his pace a bit until he was walking next to her.

"Yes. I'm just not..." The elf smiled nervously, ".._used_ to being in the forest by myself."

"Oh." He replied, slightly confused, before looking back over his shoulder to see Melissa questioning Oghren about the booze the dwarf had brought along for the journey. Maybe he had not picked the best people to accompany them right now... but well, it was kind of too late to turn back and change things. "I thought all Dalish knew the forest like their home."

Only a second too late did he became aware of what he'd just said, looking back at Merrill nervously only to find the thin elf looking straight ahead – not seeming to pay great attention to his words. Hm, if this had been Zula he'd been talking to a few months ago she would probably have his head for suggesting that the elves had no home besides the forest... Merrill was different. Or maybe she'd just missed his assumption.

"The hunters do." She said simply, dodging the next branch coming her way just in time. "But I'm the clan's first. I spend my time... differently." Unlike he'd expected, she seemed to notice him becoming slightly more nervous after hearing those words – as he himself had already completely lost track the moment they had stepped out of the Dalish encampment. "Don't worry." The First quickly added. "I know my sister's tendencies. We'll find them."

"Your... sister?"

"Mahariel." He was becoming more confused by the minute; even Merrill noticed. "...she did not tell you?"

"No, she did not." Though this did explain why Zulandra had told him to ask Merrill to guide them through the forest. _And_ why she had told him not to reveal his templar abilities to the First; she had simply been trying to protect her sister. Who was an apostate.

Would have been nice if she had mentioned this beforehand though.

Shaking these thoughts off, Alistair decided to simply focus on the newly acquired information. Zulandra rarely talked about herself; maybe talking to her sister would reveal something new about her. Preferably something he could use as bribing material. You know, just to take a little revenge on her for offending his cooking skills. "Sooo... you and Zulandra are sisters?"

"By blood; yes. But I'm not sure how she sees this after leaving. Family ties are usually broken when a Dalish decides to leave his or her clan."

"I don't understand... Does it have to do something with the ritual yesterday?"

The elf nodded almost unnoticeably. "By asking them to take part in the ritual the Keeper called them melava'vhen: clanless. Being a dalish hunter without clan is considered a great shame amongst our people. Usually this doesn't matter as most dalish that leave do so on their own terms.." She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to continue or not. Frowning, the elf casted a graze at the sky before opening her mouth again. "Or are out for committing great crimes... which in turn means that they were cast out for choosing not to obey the laws of the clan. Tamlen and Zulandra on the other hand were _forced_ to leave because of the taint."

Another pause came into the story as she struggled to remove a small stick from her hair. "Zula never cared too much about tradition—but Tamlen..." Again the elf cut herself off, finally seeming to realize exactly who she was speaking to. "...I probably shouldn't be the one telling you this. If you want to know more you should ask them."

After having said this, Merrill sped up slightly in order to get ahead of the group again – and to probably get away from him before saying even more that might anger Zula later – leaving him to deal with Oghren and Melissa, who were currently in the middle of a heated discussion on the many different flavours of wine... Maker, this was going to be a long day.

oOo

He gritted his teeth as he leaned heavily against the tree behind him, warm blood oozing from the wound on his lower leg; slowly tinkering through the fabric of his pants and colouring the leather of his boot a deep crimson. There was a bad feeling settling in his stomach about this entire situation. He had to get out of here and fast. Amber eyes were opened wide as he scanned the area around him – catching a glimpse of grey between the trees every now and then but nothing solid... and every time he tried to focus his eyes on the grey blur he would find it already gone.

'_Creators, these things are fast.'_

Tamlen gritted his teeth as he shifted his blade to his other hand; having lost his shield somewhere halfway through his previous encounter with the werewolves. But those things had been nothing compared to the ones chasing him right now. Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by these werewolves and cursed for being so inattentive.

He managed to cut down two of them before a third came and slashed at his stomach, razor sharp nails easily cutting though his leather armour and ripping at the flesh beneath – and he realized for the first time that his decision had been incredibly stupid. No plan was without risk and he was about to lose his life here because of his. Clutching his wounded stomach Tamlen was quick to notice the blood streaming out between his fingers, the last of the werewolves staring at him with a malicious grin.

As the werewolf charged at him Tamlen jumped to the side, just barely avoiding a would-be fatal blow to the head. He stumbled for a second, and in that second, he was disarmed and toppled over by the huge beast – his sword clattering down on the ground and out of reach as if announcing his final fate.

When he saw the wolf preparing for another attack, Tamlen braced himself, sending out a last prayer to Falon'Din to guide him safely beyond the Veil. The wolf let out a terrifying howl, and in the second before the last blow, he send out another prayer towards Mythal; asking her to watch over Zula when he was gone...

But the blow never came.

Instead the werewolf suddenly went limp, collapsing on top of him with a black feathered arrow sticking out from between its eyes. For a second or two; Tamlen just laid there, completely frozen with surprise as he stared at the arrow in amazement. Then a smile started to appear on his lips; a the small wicked smile of a man that had just stared death in the eyes. A smile that stayed on his face, even after a slender shadow had appeared above him.

"Heh, knew you wouldn't let me go here alone."

"Shut up." Hanging her bow back over her shoulder, Zula moved over to help him get the werewolf corpse off him. Despite her harsh words, he couldn't help but to smile at the glint of relief that had settled itself in her lavender eyes – a glint that disappeared as soon as the corpse was moved out of the way and she'd gotten a good look at his wounds.

"One drink." He could hear her sharp words as he tried to struggle up, putting as less weight on his wounded leg as possible. "She only asked you to drink one drink. But noooo... you couldn't even do that." Tamlen chuckled at that, too tired to argue with her. He was getting dizzy; having lost too much blood already and the still open wounds only adding to that.

Being tired was never a good sign. Not when wounded like he was.

But somehow his mind failed to register this; failed to register the danger of falling asleep right now. All the elf could focus on were Zula's fading words... and the ground that was slowly coming closer to him as the world around him started to make place for darkness.

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**Elvish - English**

Assan – Arrow; also the name of Zulandra's wolf.  
Vallaslin – Blood writing; the tattoos the Dalish have to honour their gods.  
Lethallan – Casual reference used for a female with whom one is familiar.  
Lethallin – Casual reference used for a male with whom one is familiar.  
Da'len – Child/Casual reference used for a person (much) younger than oneself.  
Shemlen/Shem – The original name of the elves for the human race (downgrading).

**Full Sentences:**  
Dirth na maraen – Literally; Tell your findings, translated as: What did you find?  
Sahlin Assan, vir nuvenin an lethallin. Shem. – Come Assan, we need to locate Tamlen. Fast.

Bit of a short chapter, I know, but I HAD to cut it in two... it was becoming WAY too long, hehehe. I'll try to post the next chapter somewhere this week. And thanks for reviewing/favouriting/subscribing everyone! All of that makes me smile ;)


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